Birdsong and Headstones

Birdsong and Headstones

Yesterday, as I drove into the sun with tears streaming down my face I wondered why it hit so much harder this year. Memories of her face melting as she held my daughter for the first time bubbled up, breaking the surface tension of a momentary stoicism. A woman...
Witnessed

Witnessed

wherever i go i shallsew seeds of simplicityplant bulbs of beautypot hale and hearty herbsdot fruit trees in the tiniestor most generous of plotsscatter seeds along the vergeand be faithfulit matters notthat the yarrow takes over a bedand then departs for a...
The Return to My Breath

The Return to My Breath

I had heard of rapé and was sure I wasn’t interested but as our guide continued around the circle curiosity began to replace resistance. As he quietly approached my mat I nodded my request and we whispered words I didn’t hear as he loaded the kuripe with powdered...
The Edge of Solstice

The Edge of Solstice

i fall with brothers and sisters from this life just pastleaf litter, in a rotting, mouldering, fetid massto become the forest floorthere is no scent of the newness of lifeall has been released the summer of this love has shed meas surely as a tree sheds leavesi’ve...
White Dove and the Evergreen

White Dove and the Evergreen

I made this advent calendar when my daughter and my inclination to decorate for the holiday still lived at home.  These days my daughter no longer lives at home, I somehow have more time yet not always enough to tend to daily routines and what my soul requires,...
The Blessings of Grit

The Blessings of Grit

When I write I often feel hesitant to write from the perspective of we, but even more so from the sole perspective of I.  It’s a conundrum every time.  Will this piece speak to anyone else?  Is it clear that the story is personal parable?  Or does it read as the...